


Afraid of the Dark

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Parents, Boys Kissing, Dad Derek Hale, Dad Stiles Stilinski, Domestic Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Domestic Fluff, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Parenthood, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles and Derek’s son is afraid of the dark and will only sleep if one of them—usually Stiles—sleeps in his room. Derek is growing increasingly frustrated about waking up alone.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 16
Kudos: 492





	Afraid of the Dark

Stiles jolted awake to the sound of their son’s heart-breaking cry tearing through the house.

Derek stirred beside him, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he weakly tried to get up.

“I’ve got him,” Stiles said, his voice slightly slurred and lethargic as he rubbed at his eyes.

He shoved the blanket aside and kicked his legs free of the sheets. He rose to his feet and shuffled through the darkness to where he knew the door was, shutting the bedroom door behind himself before turning on the hallway light.

He winced as the burst of bright light stung his eyes.

“I’m coming, buddy,” he called out as he made his way across the landing and to their son’s room.

He slowly opened the door, leaving it ajar so that the light filtered into the room.

Jonathan was sitting up in his crib, glistening tears streaming down his cheeks and his face red from crying. His blanket pooled around his waist as his chubby little hands clutched the soft fabric of the plush wolf they’d gotten him when he was born—holding it to his chest.

His cries died away to broken whimpers and quiet babbling as held his arms up, still holding his wolf and sniffing back his sobs as he looked at his dad pleadingly.

Stiles smiled softly as he made his way over to the crib.

“It’s alright,” Stiles said softly, lifting the boy into his arms and holding him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Stiles swayed slightly, listening as Jonathan’s sobs grew quiet and his breathing settled. He sat down in the chair in the corner of the room, holding Jonathan against his chest.

Jonathan nuzzled his face into the curve of Stiles’ neck, his free hand clutching at the worn fabric of Stiles’ shirt as he drifted off to sleep in his father’s arms.

Sleep must have caught up with him because the next thing he remembered was Jonathan stirring and Derek gently prying their son from Stiles’ arms—trying not to wake him.

Stiles blinked his eyes open, letting out a weak groan as he squinted against the glaring light which streamed through the window

Derek looked down at him, smiling sweetly.

“I must have drifted off,” Stiles said quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

“Why don’t you go back to bed and sleep properly,” Derek proposed.

“Nah,” Stiles replied, pushing himself up to his feet. “I’m awake now.”

Derek craned his neck, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ cheek before carrying Jonathan out of the room and making his way downstairs.

Stiles followed after him, sitting down on the couch as Derek sat Jonathan down in front of the television to watch one of his favourite shows while he made breakfast. He listened as Derek rambled about in the kitchen, making coffee and preparing breakfast.

“I don’t understand,” Stiles muttered as Derek came back into the lounge room, taking the mug of coffee Derek offered him with a tired smile. “He sleeps fine when he has a nap during the day, but every night he has nightmares.”

“Maybe it’s not nightmares,” Derek suggested. “If it were, he’d have them during his naps or while you and I are there with him.”

“Then what is it?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know,” Derek replied. “Maybe he’s scared of being alone.”

“So, what, we move his crib into our room? Let him sleep in our bed and hope we don’t crush him when we roll over in the middle of the night?”

A small smile played at the corners of Derek’s lips.

“What are you smirking at?” Stiles asked.

“You,” Derek answered. “If only your father could see how worried you are.”

“I know, it’s karma for everything I put my dad through,” Stiles groaned. “If he were a few months older he’d be able to tell us what’s wrong. I hate guessing. I hate that I’m failing him because I don’t understand.”

Stiles let out a dejected sigh, sinking back into the sofa’s cushions as frustrated tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Derek said softly, setting down his coffee and sitting down next to Stiles. He gently pulled his husband into his arms, letting Stiles lay against his side and rest his head on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll work this out.”

The next morning, Derek rolled over, feeling the bed beside him.

It was cold; empty.

He blinked his eyes open, looking at the pillow next to him. He let out a heavy sig, pushing his face into his pillow and letting out a frustrated groan.

He hated waking up alone. He’d done it for years before he met Stiles, and the first time he woke up next to Stiles he knew that’s what he wanted for the rest of his life. But for months now, he’d woken up alone, finding Stiles in Jonathan’s room, curled up on the chair and comforting him after another restless night.

Derek pushed himself upright.

They’d tried everything, and nothing worked.

“It’s not nightmares and he’s fine sleeping on his own because he sleeps fine during the day,” Derek mused to himself. “So why does he sleep during the day but not at night? What’s different?”

He straightened, realisation hitting him.

He kicked his feet free of the blankets and got out of bed, dressing himself quickly. He shoved his phone and wallet into his pockets before making his way over to Jonathan’s room.

The boy was just beginning to stir when Derek pushed open the door.

Derek carefully untangled him from Stiles’ arms, careful not to wake his husband. He grabbed a change of clothes for Jonathan and his day bag. He made his way downstairs, setting Jonathan down to watch his favourite show as he quickly dressed him and made breakfast.

As soon as the show was finished and they’d eaten breakfast, Derek bundled him into the car and left.

Stiles slowly stirred, blinking his eyes open to the morning light that streamed through the thin fabric of the curtains.

The house was silent.

The usual sounds of the morning—the television with the volume down low but still audible as Jonathan watched his favourite show, the pots and pans in the kitchen as Derek made breakfast, the sound of Derek’s deep voice and Jonathan’s babbling as they talked quietly—weren’t there; the house was silent.

He looked down, his heart skipping a beat as he realised Jonathan wasn’t in his arms.

He bolted upright, his head whipping around as he looked around the nursery.

Jonathan wasn’t there.

He leapt to his feet, running across the landing to his and Derek’s room, frantically searching there before sprinting downstairs and searching the kitchen and the living room.

They weren’t there.

Stiles ran back upstairs, grabbing his phone from the bedside table and dialling Derek’s number.

“Hey,” Derek answered.

“Please tell me you have Jonathan,” Stiles pleaded.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Derek replied.

There was a quiet babbling on the other end.

Jonathan.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Did I forget to leave a note?” Derek asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Yes,” Stiles said, frustration adding an edge to his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said. “I was so caught up in what I had to do and I left in such a hurry, I forgot.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Stiles asked.

“You were fast asleep,” Derek replied. “I couldn’t wake you.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re in Target,” Derek answered.

Jonathan let out a delighted squeal on the other end, the sound he made when he found something he really liked.

“Can you pick up something for Cora’s birthday while you’re there?”

“Sure,” Derek said. “We’re going to be a few more minutes and then we’ll head home.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you,” Derek said softly.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile. “I love you too.”

There was a chorus of babbling on the other end of the phone as Stiles heard Derek ask Jonathan what they should get Aunty Cora for her birthday just before the call ended.

He let out a heavy sigh as he sat down on the edge of the bed, raking his fingers through his hair.

After a while, he made his way into the en suite, showering and getting dressed. As he made his way back downstairs, he heard the front door open.

Derek shuffled into the hallway, balancing Jonathan on one hip as he carried a bunch of bags in the other hand.

“Hey, little man,” Stiles said, holding out his arms and taking Jonathan from Derek. He pressed a kiss against his son’s chubby cheek, his heart melting as a bright smile lit up Jonathan’s face.

He turned to Derek.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said. “I should have left a note or messaged you and just let you know where we were.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles said, reassuringly. He reached out and gently tugged at Derek’s leather jacket, pulling him close and bringing their lips together in a tender kiss.

A soft smile lifted the corners of Derek’s lips as he looked at Stiles lovingly.

“What was so important that you had to rush to the store?” Stiles asked, watching as Derek set one bag—Cora’s present—down on the table and carried two others towards the stairs.

“I think I have a solution,” Derek said as he made his way upstairs to Jonathan’s room. “And this had better work, because I want to sleep with my husband.”

Hours later, as the light of day was fading to dusk, Derek’s voice rang out from upstairs.

“Okay, all done.”

Stiles picked Jonathan up off the floor, carrying him up to his room. He tentatively pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

The walls and ceiling were covered in constellations of plastic stars and a night light that looked like a full moon had been fixed to the wall.

“You ready to see if this works?” Derek asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, setting Jonathan down on the floor.

Derek shut the block-out curtains, plunging the room into darkness.

Jonathan let out an uncomfortable whimper, but it died away as he looked up at the glowing stars that covered the walls and ceiling.

Derek reached over and switched on the night light, casting a subtle white glow across the room—bright enough to illuminate everything in the room but dull enough that Jonathan would be able to sleep.

Jonathan let out a delighted giggle.

Derek let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a relieved smile lighting up his face as he looked at Stiles.

“He’s afraid of the dark,” Stiles realised.

“I think we solved the problem,” Derek said, a bright smile lighting his face.

Derek rolled over, instinctively curling around the warm figure that lay next to him as he stirred from sleep. He let out a heavy sigh and blinked his eyes open.

He looked down at the man curled up against his side, his tousled brown hair messed up and his face softened by sleep.

Stiles stirred, drawing in a deep breath as he opened his dark eyes, looking up at Derek sleepily.

“Hello, stranger,” Derek whispered, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“It worked,” Stiles murmured sleepily, snuggling into Derek’s side more and nuzzling his face into the curve of his husband’s shoulder. Seconds later, he was asleep again.

Derek couldn’t help but smile, resting his cheek atop Stiles’ head.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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